Gossip in the First Decade of Victoria's Reign. Ashton John
Rawlinson: You want to look like a grenadier, I suppose?
Applicant: My granny-dear (God bless her old soul!), she never had such a fashionable and warlike appendage in her life.
Mr. Rawlinson: What business has a carpenter with a quantity of long hair hanging from his lip?
Applicant: The reason vy I vears it is ’cos it’s fashionable, and makes me look like a man of some courage.
Mr. Rawlinson: Fashionable, indeed! I wish, with all my heart, that the fashion was discontinued. Why need an Englishman make a Jew of himself? It is disgusting to see persons strutting through the streets with mustachios, and, sometimes, a fringe of hair round the face and chin, which is dignified by the name of whiskers. As you won’t take my advice, I can’t assist you.
Applicant: Vot! not for striking me on the hupper lip?
Mr. Rawlinson: Then your mustachios must have saved you.
Applicant: No, they didn’t.
Mr. Rawlinson: How’s that?
Applicant: ’Cos the hair ain’t long and thick enough; they’re only young ’uns as yet. There was no occasion to strike me.
Mr. Rawlinson: And there’s no occasion for you to wear mustachios. You may have a warrant, if you like, but I think you had better not.
The man with mustachios then withdrew.
The late King’s stud at Hampton was doomed to be sold, and the sale thereof created something of a sensation. On this subject there is, in a little twopenny weekly magazine, called The Torch, 9 Sep., ’37 (vol. i., p. 19), a periodical now long forgotten, a poem by Tom Hood, which I have not seen in any collection of his poems. It is a
Liege Lady, all the nation’s in high dud-
geon that Lord Melbourne’s brains should be so muddy
As to advise you sell your royal stud,
Which to preserve, should be your royal study.
Poor nags you would not in your stable find,
Like cavalry of Evans called De Lacey,
No! I do rather hope your royal mind
Is naturally fond of something racy.
Pray, what has Hampton done that you should trounce ill-
naturedly its prancers and its sport?
You have a breed of asses in the Council,
Do keep a breed of horses in the Court.
His truth who says that you should sell them, fails.
Believe me, Lady liege, he tells a crammer;
You’ll set your people biting all their nails,
If you put up your horses to the hammer.
I like these money-turning Whigs, indeed;
Who, into coin, change everything they’re able.
You’re just installed, and they would sell the steed,
It doesn’t make me think they’re very stable.
I daresay they believe they’re very knowing,
I think they’re close to their official shelves:
And, when they set the horses “Going, going,”
It’s nearly time they should be gone themselves.
The nation quite in Hampton Court rejoices,
What! sell its stud of steeds beyond all praise!
Nay, shout the people with indignant voices,
And the stud echoes with a hundred neighs.
Then sell them not, dear lady, I implore ye;
Of tears ’twill set your people shedding floods; —
I tell ye what will make ’em all adore ye, —
Kick out your ministers and keep your bloods!
But Hood must have laboured under a misapprehension, for the horses were the private property of the late King, and his executors had no option but to sell them. It was said that William IV. in his lifetime wished the country to take the stud over, at a valuation, and, after his death, it was offered to Queen Victoria for £16,000. The sale took place on Oct. 25, and there were 80 lots, which did not fetch particularly high prices, the highest being “The Colonel,” who was bought, after winning the St. Leger, by George IV. for 4,000 guineas; but the horse broke down after running a dead heat at Ascot in 1831. He only realised 1,150 guineas, and was bought by the auctioneer, Mr. Tattersall. The next highest price given was for “Actæon,” which fetched 920 guineas. The total proceeds of the sale was 15,692 guineas.
In October a great change was made in the matter of marriage, which had, hitherto, been a purely ecclesiastical affair, but by the 6 & 7 Gul. iv., cap. 85, Registrars of births and deaths were empowered to marry couples, and it became a purely civil contract. This Act was to have come into force on the first day of March; but a subsequent Act postponed it to the last day of June, and it really only became effective in October. It surprised people by its simplicity, and the gist of the Act is in Section xx.: “And be it enacted, That after the expiration of the said Period of Twenty-one Days or of Seven Days, if the Marriage is by Licence, Marriages may be solemnized in the registered Building stated as aforesaid in the notice of such Marriage, between and by the Parties described in the Notice and Certificate, according to such form and ceremony as they may see fit to adopt: Provided nevertheless, that every such Marriage shall be solemnized with open doors, between the Hours of Eight and Twelve in the Forenoon, in the Presence of some Registrar of the District in which such registered Building is situated, and of Two, or more, credible Witnesses; provided also, that in some Part of the Ceremony, and in the Presence of such Registrar and Witnesses, each of the Parties shall declare:
“‘I do solemnly declare, That I know not of any lawful Impediment why I, A. B., may not be joined in Matrimony to C. D.’
“And each of the Parties shall say to the other:
“‘I call upon these Persons here present to witness that I, A. B., do take thee, C. D., to be my lawful wedded Wife [or Husband].’
“Provided also, that there be no lawful Impediment to the Marriage of such Parties.”
The old House of Commons was destroyed by fire on 16 Oct., 1834, and it was not until September, 1837, that the first contracts for the commencement of the construction of the new works, in connection with the present building, were entered into. They were for the formation of an embankment 886 feet in length, projecting into the river 98 feet further than that then existing, to be faced with granite, and a terrace 673 feet long next the river, and 35 feet wide, in front of the new Houses, with an esplanade at each end 100 feet square, with landing stairs from the river 12 feet wide. The whole surface of the front building was to be excavated, and filled in with concrete 12 feet thick, thus forming a permanent and solid foundation for the superstructure. Towards the end of this year, the Queen was somewhat pestered with lunatics. On Nov. 4, as she was going through Birdcage Walk on her return from Brighton, a man of respectable appearance went near the Queen’s carriage, held up his fist, and made use of most insulting language towards Her Majesty and the Duchess of Kent, declaring that the Queen was an usurper, and he would have her off her Throne before a week was out. He was afterwards arrested, and turned out to be Mr. John Goode, a gentleman of large property in Devonshire, who had been previously in custody on 24th of May (Her Majesty’s birthday) for creating a disturbance and forcibly entering